New Beginnings
by Nat15
Summary: It can be a hard path to a new beginning... how will Tara and Christian face the challenges ahead? Hopefully, together.


Tara

It hurts. Everything about recovery hurts. I thought it had been bad the first time around, when I fell and injured my leg on first year, I thought it had been terrible the second time, when Saskia hurt my back, but now… There really isn't a way to describe how painful and frustrating this recovery has been.

And the thing is: the worst part is supposedly over. I've learned how to walk again; I've been blessed with this second chance, when everyone around me feared I was doomed to spend the rest of my life on a wheelchair. Don't me wrong, I'm thankful for this, I'm thankful for being able to wake up in the morning and stand on my own feet. I'm thankful for all the love and support I received, while I struggled to find strength within myself to work my way through this, to literally one step at a time walk towards a future that seemed to get farther away from my reach. But somehow walking doesn't feel enough, it never had really… It's like my body misses dancing and even craves for it, like my muscles remember exactly what to do and how, but can't. Being realistic, I don't know how long it will take before I can dance the way I used to, or if I ever will.

It took months just learning how to walk and when I was allowed to start taking dance classes again, obviously, I had to start with the basics. It's good; the studio, the bars, the mirrors, it all feels like home; if I close my eyes for a moment and just listen to the music I can pretend like I'm back on first year, when everything was much easier, when my body was strong and complete, not just a bunch of broken pieces fighting to stay as one, always in the verge of crumbling.

There are times when it feels better, when I feel like I'm making some real progress. On the first month back to dance class I could really see myself growing, finding my way back to the dancer I was, or even better, tracing a new path to the dancer I could be. When I danced with my friends on Sammy's memorial, it was magic, it was like from that moment on things would really start falling into place, as if this big puzzle I've been trying to solve for the last three years was almost complete, and even after all the hard times, I'd be able to see the bigger picture at last. Well, in the moment, I'm not so sure I can.

"I'm sorry, Miss Webster." The doctor's voice echoed in the room. I tried to fight the tears in my eyes, but it was pointless. The woman's voice was understanding, but not comforting, as if she tried to be condescending, but she lacked emotion, her tone was almost cold "I'm afraid you're not ready to return to dancing and, I have to be honest with you, I can't assure you ever will."

"But… But I worked so hard on the recovery and I did everything the doctors told me to. I'm starting only with the basics, I'm…" My voice faded, so did my words. I swallowed a sob.

"I see…" She nodded, examining the papers spread around her desk, my diagnostics. My hands curled up into fists as I tried to keep my fingers from shaking. From across the table I could feel Doctor Veronica's eyes on me, but I wouldn't dare to look up. All I wanted was to leave that place, and hopefully, leave her words behind as well "Miss Webster, you should comprehend your pervious doctor was taking a chance on you, which is understandable, the recovery had really good results, it's impressive that you've been able to recover the ability to walk completely and even start practicing dance again. That's not my point here though. Dancing is a demanding activity, it puts extra pressure on your bones, especially on your feet, legs and back, the three areas you've injured, not once, but twice before."

"Yes, but…"

"I'm not saying you should quit dancing for good. You can dance, but I highly recommend that you take it easy, your body should be able to heal properly and putting it under distress at this point isn't a risk you should be willing to take. Eventually, you'll start realizing you may never be as strong and flexible as you were before, it doesn't matter how hard you work or how much want it. Of course your wounds have healed, your surgery was a success, but truth is none of that changes the fact you've broken your back. I know dance is a big part of your life, it can still be... All I'm saying is that dance classes, a professional career, it might be off limits for you. It's a sad reality, but…" She didn't finish, she didn't have to.

For the next minutes I just nodded, pretending to hear every single word, but not paying the slightest attention to those noises on the background, Veronica's voice, they were unimportant now. The idea of never dancing again, not the way I used to, not the way I needed to, it wasn't something I could assimilate at all.

After what felt like an eternity I could finally leave the hospital. The rest of the world seemed to go mute; suddenly, there was nothing but the doctor's voice in my head, echoing ever so painfully, life passed by in slow motion. I walked home to my new apartment, it was close enough to go by foot, though my legs felt like they'd to turn into liquid at any second.

I had to move when third year finished, but my new place was still close to the Academy, which I had always considered a good thing. However, now, as I arrive at the building and climb up to my apartment, the majestic premise of Sidney's National Academy of Dance stares back at me, from across my room's window, as a reminder of everything I had lost, things I may never have again.

I search around in my purse, blinded by my own tears, counting only on my hands to find myself the phone. As soon as I catch grip of it, I press the first number on speed dial and wait, curled up like a ball in the sofa, sobbing to myself in the lonely silence on my apartment.

"Tara?" He finally picks up "Are you… Are you crying?"

"Christian." I say in a heavy breath, trying to recover the air, relieved to hear his voice.

"Tara, talk to me, what's going on?" He sounds worried.

"Can you please come over?" I plead.

"I… I'm teaching a… You know what, forget it… _Yes_! I'll be there as soon as I can." He says determinate.

"Thank you." I cry before hanging up.

It takes him about ten minutes to arrive. I'd hoped I would manage to stop crying before that, but apparently, I was wrong. When the doorbell rings, I jump from the couch startled, hurrying to open it. Christian looks just as worried as he sounded, and when my eyes finally meet his, it feels as if the last of my walls crumbles to the ground and I let myself fall along, in his arms. I sob against his chest, feeling his arms close around me, one of his hands caresses my hair as he walks me into the apartment and closes the door. For a long moment we just stand there, frozen, holding each other. All of a sudden I'm certain, right now, he's the one thing keeping me from falling to pieces, so I won't let go, I can't.

"It's okay." He whispers to my ear.

It's not; nothing is okay, he just doesn't know it yet.

_**A/N: so I started writing this story as soon as DA finished, and I'm not sure if I'll continue it or not. Still, Your opinions are always welcome. Enjoy!**_


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